Young as I was this relation of my nurse made me weep very much; it
brought to my memory things which I had long thought must have been
dreams. I well remembered my father's picture; I had seen my mother weep
over it, press it to her lips, and address it by the name of her dear
Frederick. I earnestly entreated the nurse to take me to the
clergyman's, that I might once more have the pleasure of seeing it. She
told me to have patience till Sunday, and that when service was over she
would speak to him about it. I submitted to this delay without a murmur,
and the following Sunday, when service was over, as he was walking
through the churchyard, nurse went up to him and told him my request.
'Ah,' said he, looking at the little troop of children that followed the
nurse, and immediately fixing his eyes upon me, 'I suppose this is the
little lady. What is your name, my dear?'
'Lady Anne, sir,' replied I, curtseying very low. I must here observe
that I did not know that lady was a title, but thought it was as much a
part of my name as Anne.
'What, still Lady Anne?' said he. 'You are determined not to lose your
title. Well, my little lady, come home with me and I will show you your
father's picture.'
We then followed the clergyman to his house. The children were told to
stay in the garden, with strict orders not to touch anything, and nurse
and I were permitted the honour of entering the study. Mr. Sanders then,
opening the drawer of a cabinet, took out the miniature portrait of a
young and handsome gentleman dressed in regimentals. I no sooner beheld
it than a thousand recollections seemed to rush upon my mind. I caught
it from his hand, pressed it to my lips, and bursting into a flood of
tears, exclaimed:
'It is my father's picture. My own, my dear father. Oh, if I could but
see him! Where is he gone to? Do you know where he is gone to?'
'Be calm, my dear child,' said the good man, taking me in his arms. 'We
do not know where your father is, or we would write to him. If you could
tell us his name, we might find him out. Do you not remember any name
they used to call your father?'
'They used to call father my lord; and mother my lady, and they called
me Lady Anne,' said I.
'Ah! that is the old story, we know it already,' replied the clergyman
with a sigh; 'but who, my dear, was the earl? Can you not recollect his
name? Try if you cannot remember.'
'I do not know his name,' replied I, 'but he came one day and was very
angry, and made mother cry, and then she fell on the floor and I
screamed, and then the Earl was more angry and stamped, and I screamed
with all my might, and the Earl rang the bell and went away in a great
passion, and then Sally--yes, it was Sally--came to mother.'
'Where was your father, then, my dear?'
'I do not know, father was gone, and I have never seen him since.'
The good clergyman asked me many more questions, to try if he could
discover who my friends were; but, as I unfortunately could not tell
either my own name, or that of any of the great people who had visited
us, his enquiries were fruitless, and he closed the conversation by
observing, 'that it was a great pity I had not been taught my own name
and address.'
* * * * *
[_Lady Anne was then taken to an orphan home, where she was treated very
harshly by Mrs. Dawson, the matron. Great fun was made of her grand
name._]
* * * * *
At last a man and his wife, who had come down from London on a visit to
a relation of theirs in the town, having heard of me, came to the school
to make their inquiries. I was accordingly ordered to stand up, that
they might satisfy their curiosity with gazing at me, while Mrs. Dawson
began to boast of all the good qualities I possessed, and some to which
I had no claim.
'She is a very delicate looking child,' said the woman from London; 'she
looks more like a gentleman's daughter than a parish girl.'
'She is straight, and tall of her age, ma'am,' replied Mrs. Dawson, 'and
that gives her a genteelish look; but I assure you she is as strong as a
little horse. She will wash and scour with any girl of her age; and, as
for her needle, there is not a girl in the school can work as well. Show
your work, Lady Anne.'
'Lady Anne!' repeated the Londoner, as she took my work into her hand,
'that is a strange name. What do you call her so for?'
Mrs. Dawson ran over my story to her as briefly as she could. The two
Londoners found it very diverting, and laughed heartily, while the tears
stood in my eyes as I thought of my dear parents, one in the grave, and
the other I might never see again.
'Well, wife,' said the man, when he had laughed till he was weary,
'suppose we take this young lady on trial for a month; the good woman
speaks of her very well; we can but see what she can do, and, if we find
her strong enough for our place, it will be a rare piece of luck for us
to have an earl's daughter for our servant. What say you, aye or nay?'
'I have no objection to try her,' replied the wife. 'She sews very well,
and that is the greatest object with us.'
'Very well, then,' returned the husband. 'Let us away to the overseers,
and settle with them about taking her upon trial, for I will not have
her as an apprentice till we know what she can do.'
They then went away, and, in about two hours, the one that I called the
good-natured overseer came to tell Mrs. Dawson to have me in readiness
to go to London on the morning after the morrow with my new master and
mistress.
'And I hope, child,' said he, addressing me, 'that you will do all you
can to please them, for I give you my word for it, that if you are sent
back to us we shall send you to the Bridewell, where you will be kept to
hard labour, and be whipped every day; so now you know what you have to
trust to.'
I assured him very sincerely that I would do to the utmost of my power
to please my master and mistress; and then I very humbly entreated his
permission to allow me to go the next day to pay a farewell visit to Mr.
Sanders and my nurse, Jenkins.
'Yes, child, you shall go. And mind, Dawson, that you let her go early,
that she may find Mr. Sanders at home, for he made me promise that we
would not send her away without first letting her call upon him.
Good-bye, child, there is a penny for you to spend, and if you are a
good girl you shall have a shilling for yourself when you are bound
apprentice.'
I curtsied, thanked him, and renewed my promises of good behaviour. He
then went away, and Mrs. Dawson told me to sit down to my work, for that
too much time had been lost in talking.